


Live Long and Eat Pie

by literaryoblivion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Conventions, Cosplay, Costumes, Dean is Kirk and Cas is Spock and they are MFEO, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Holding Hands, M/M, Nerdiness, Pie, Romantic Friendship, Season/Series 05, Star Trek - Freeform, Star Trek Convention, Vulcan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:23:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since they had been dragged to that stupid Supernatural convention, where they ended up saving Chuck and his fans, he may have possibly looked up the dates and places of Star Trek conventions. He knew they existed because he was enough of a Star Trek fan, but he never thought he’d actually go to one because, just… no.</p><p>But now, with the end of the world upon him and the thought he’d most likely be dead when it was all over, he was going to go to a Star Trek convention because it was probably going to be last time he’d ever get to do it. And he damn well deserved it, okay, because he was trying his best to stop the apocalypse and save the world, and he was going to take a moment to geek out because he was Dean fucking Winchester and he had every right to do something he’s secretly wanted to do his whole Star Trek loving existence before he died and the world went to shit.</p><p>And Cas is coming with him because at least he will have someone with him that will know less than he does about this show and they can trudge through this possibly awkward experience together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live Long and Eat Pie

**Author's Note:**

> This was written to fill [this prompt](http://destielficprompts.tumblr.com/post/41239827765/live-long-and-eat-pie) for [violinsandskulls](http://violinsandskulls.tumblr.com/) over at [this prompt blog](http://destielficprompts.tumblr.com), which everyone should check out and submit and fulfill prompts!

“You’re really just going to leave me here?”

“Yup,” Dean said with a grin. 

Sam sighed, “You’re not even going to tell me where you’re going or why we are even here?”

“Nope.”

“What if something happens to you? What if something happens to me? We’re supposed to be finding a way to kill the Devil, remember? Shouldn’t that be something we do _together_?”

“Nothing is going to happen, and we do have cell phones and a freakin’ angel on our side. If something happens, I’ll call Cas,” Dean says, thinking to himself that he’ll be perfectly safe and won’t need to call the angel because the angel is going to be with him the whole time anyway. “Besides, Bobby is doing tons of research already, and we haven’t found anything, and I’m not going on Devil-killing business.”

“Then what business are you going on?”

“Something that is none of yours.” 

“Dean,” he says, exasperated.

“Sam,” he says in the same mocking tone.

Sam gives him his best bitch face, which Dean only returns in kind, and then Dean gives in because really what he’s doing is not dangerous at all but more like really embarrassing for him to admit to his brother, and he’d really just rather avoid Sam’s teasing.

“Sammy, I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in time for dinner. Just revel in some alone time and mess around on your laptop and watch crappy day-time TV.” 

“Crappy day-time TV is your thing.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.” 

Then they both smile at each other, and Dean turns towards the door of their motel. 

“Just, be careful, whatever you’re doing,” Sam says with a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m always careful.” Sam rolls his eyes and then waves Dean out the door. Dean smiles to himself as he shuts the door behind him and starts towards the Impala. That had gone a lot easier than he had thought, and he didn’t even have to confess to where he was going to Sam. This was already turning out better than planned.

As he slips into the Impala, he pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and checks the address written on it to make sure he knows it and how to get there. He slips the paper back into his jacket pocket and turns the key, a quiet pleasure blossoms in him as he hears the roar of the engine. It never gets old. 

***

Dean knows he’s getting closer to his destination because the traffic becomes worse and the people walking past his idling car on the sidewalk look like they came from an obscure Sci-Fi film. No, take that back, they most definitely came from a recognizable Sci-Fi TV series that also has several films. Dean can’t help the little flutter in his heart of excitement as he starts to recognize some of the costumes.

That’s right. Dean is going to a Star Trek convention. 

On purpose.

Because he damn well wants to, okay?

Ever since they had been dragged to that stupid Supernatural convention, where they ended up saving Chuck and his fans, he may have possibly looked up the dates and places of Star Trek conventions. He knew they existed because he was enough of a Star Trek fan (he still couldn’t admit to the title of “Trekkie”, something in the back of his mind thought something about not being worthy) to have ventured on a few forums to see fans talking about it. But he never thought he’d actually go to one because, just… no.

But now, with the end of the world upon him and the thought he’d most likely be dead when it was all over, he was going to go to a Star Trek convention because it was probably going to be last time he’d ever get to do it. And he damn well deserved it, okay, because he was trying his best to stop the apocalypse and save the world, and he was going to take a moment to geek out because he was Dean fucking Winchester and he had every right to do something he’s secretly wanted to do his whole Star Trek loving existence before he died and the world went to shit.

He of course would have explained all of this to Sam if Sam had pressed him more, but he is glad he didn’t have to. Sam would have wanted to come and really despite humoring Dean and his love for the show, Sam would have just complained or made his poopy-diaper face the whole time, and Dean didn’t want to have to deal with that. Despite Sam being a huge nerd (and he was, okay; Sam was the nerd, knowing all that random trivia and reading all those books), he had just never had an appreciation of the truly brilliant masterpiece that was Star Trek.

Dean, however, loved it all. He of course was a bit of a purist, preferring the original series to the spin-offs, although he did enjoy Next Generation, but he didn’t really want to talk or think about Deep Space Nine. He even loved the new movie that came out because as much as he loved Shatner’s Kirk, and he really did, Dean saw himself more as the Chris Pine Captain Kirk. Really, Dean was Captain Kirk and that was the main point, but for some reason the story line for Captain Kirk in the new Star Trek movie resonated more with him. Possibly because of the fact that he had lost a parent at a young age and was kind of a rebel, but Dean doesn’t let himself think about _why_ it resonates with him.

So, here he is. He had finally found a parking spot and is now walking up to the hotel where the convention is being held. He feels completely out of place with everyone else in full costume or at least nerdy, reference-filled T-shirts, and he’s just there in jeans and plaid. It’s an odd feeling, one that starts to make him feel like he had made a huge mistake, and he starts regretting even coming here.

But, then he hears the flutter of wings behind him, and he turns to see Castiel looking just as lost and confused as he feels. And seeing that makes Dean relax a little because at least he has someone with him that will know less than he does about this show and they can trudge through this possibly awkward experience together.

“Why did you want me to meet you here?” Castiel asks, looking around at the people dressed up in costumes walking past him with confused and weary eyes.

“Because I needed a friend to back me up on this.” 

“Is there something dangerous going on here? Where’s Sam?” Castiel is already starting to look more worried and concerned.

“Dude, relax. Nothing bad is here, and Sam’s at the motel. I just… I just didn’t want to be alone, and Sam would have been not fun. Besides, this way I can show you the greatness of one of my favorite TV and movie franchises.”

Cas gives him an odd look and he furrows his brows a bit in concentration, as if he’s quickly scanning to make sure there really isn’t anything bad here. Seemingly satisfied, he stiffly nods. Dean shakes his head, grabs the angel’s arm, and pulls him towards the entrance, Cas still looking around him at the oddly dressed people, a mixture of awe and confusion plastered on his face. 

*** 

When they walk in, it’s not quite what Dean expected, although to be honest Dean wasn’t really sure what to expect. All he had as a reference was Chuck’s convention, and compared to that, this was like the freaking Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. There are a good hundred people in the lobby, some dressed in various costumes, some just regular clothes, but all very eager to enter. 

Dean laughs whenever someone who clearly did not know they booked a room at the same hotel as a “weirdo” convention was going on walks by the costumed folks, most of them almost running away like they’re afraid the phasers the costumed people have hooked on their belts are real and would actually stun them.

Then Dean thinks about how awesome that would be if there really were phasers he could set to kill and then use on the many supernatural creatures he comes in contact with, and he turns to Cas like he’s going to ask him if that were even possible, but changes his mind when he sees the look on the angel’s face.

Castiel looks confused and scared, very similar to the face he pulled when Dean took him to the strip club and he was being lead away from Dean by some chick with daddy issues. Dean follows Castiel’s gaze to see what it is that’s making him look that way, and he has to keep from busting a gut at what has Cas so damn afraid.

Walking towards them is someone dressed as a green-lizard type alien with huge claws and giant black eyes. Dean can’t recall what the alien is actually called, but whatever it is he thinks it’s pretty cool that someone took that much time and effort to dress up as one. Castiel grabs a hold of Dean’s arm as the alien approaches, and Dean’s surprised that he hasn’t lost all feeling in his arm already with how tight Cas is holding on to him.

“Cas, it’s okay. It’s just a guy in a costume.”

It’s not until the alien walks past them and starts talking to a group of people standing behind Dean that Cas loosens his grip on Dean’s arm. Dean overhears the group of people tell the alien that his gorn costume is the bomb, and Dean nods subtly in both agreement and in memory at the name. Man that was an _early_ alien; props to that dude.

In better circumstances, Dean might have turned around to tell the guy exactly that, but Cas still looks a bit freaked by this whole thing, and really it’s Dean’s fault. He hadn’t exactly explained to Cas what this was and what they were doing here.

“Why?” Cas asks, and Dean isn’t quite sure what the angel is referring to: Why was that man dressed as an alien? Why had Dean brought him here? Why did something like this exist? Dean decides to answer the question that he thinks is the easiest.

“Because sometimes it’s fun to dress up and pretend to be other people, or creatures as the case may be.”

Cas still looks as if that really didn’t answer his question, but instead of pushing for a better answer, he nods and then remembers he still has his hand on Dean’s arm (which Dean hadn’t really noticed because all he could feel there was the dull pain of when he had received an angel death grip) and lets it fall to his side.

“There’s probably going to be tons more people dressed up as weird and crazy things. It’s all part of the experience.” Dean slaps Cas on the shoulder.

“And what exactly are we supposed to be experiencing?”

Dean gives Cas a small nervous grin. “You’ve heard me talk about Star Trek before, right?”

Cas squints his eyes. “Yes. It is a TV show about a space ship, which hasn’t—“

“Hasn’t been achieved or is possible yet, I know. It’s just for fun, remember? It’s not supposed to be real. Anyway, this place is for people who really like the show to get together and talk about it and meet people who were on the show and stuff.” 

“I have never seen this show,” Cas says with a small tinge of regret as if he shouldn’t be allowed to enter since he doesn’t qualify as someone who is supposed to be there.

“Don’t worry, I got you covered. I’m pretty sure one of the rooms has an on going screening of clips. I’ll give you a crash course lesson.”

Dean moves to pull on Castiel’s arm to direct him over to the line to check-in, only he misses when a large group of people push past him, and he brushes Cas’s hand, who grabs a hold of Dean’s hand as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, like that’s what Dean was planning on doing. Dean tries to suppress the slight blush he gets, and not wanting to make Cas feel bad or awkward, he lets Cas continue holding his hand. Because they’re friends, and friends hold hands all the time; it’s not weird. This is totally not weird at all.

By the time they get to the line, with Cas still holding Dean’s hand, Dean is feeling warm and hot under the collar, and man there are a lot of people here. It’s like a furnace in this place. Sensing Dean’s discomfort, Castiel lets go of Dean’s hand and takes a step away from him. And if Dean’s thoughts and emotions about this whole thing weren’t confusing enough, when Cas moves away and drops his hand, Dean is suddenly… sad and disappointed. Disappointed? What the fuck?

Of course being the manly Winchester that he is, Dean pushes down all of these feelings and does not say a word about what just happened. He can’t even apologize to Cas, who is still keeping a comfortable distance from him, because he’s not talking about it, okay?

They get through the line fine, Cas also ignoring whatever just happened to instead observe the people at this gathering. Dean does the same, trying to see if he can guess who the passersby are dressed as, and no, he doesn’t occasionally watch Cas staring at the attendees too because it’s possibly more fascinating to see Cas people watching than actually people watching. He also doesn’t think to himself that maybe Cas kind of reminds him of Spock and that seeing him observe and analyze humanity like he’s doing now solidifies the connection in his brain.

*** 

After an hour of sitting in the same room watching numerous clips from various Star Trek shows and movies and explaining basic plot points and naming characters (and some with help from the people around them) for Cas, Dean is ready to see the rest of the convention. Really he just wants to get out of that room because his ass hurts and his mouth is dry, and how many more questions was Cas going to ask damn it? He tries his best not to let his irritation show because he owes it to Cas to explain things since he’s the one that asked him to tag along; he knows how Cas gets with trying to understand things and he should’ve known they were going to be here forever. 

But after seeing what he’s pretty sure is the same clip from Next Generation that he’s seen three times now, Dean stands up, pulling Castiel up by the elbow at the same time, and wordlessly pushes the angel towards the exit. Cas opens his mouth as if to protest. Because he still doesn’t understand the point of Tribbles, why there are sounds of the ship moving when there are no sounds in space, and that while the Vulcan mind-meld would be helpful, if it were real, would probably cause great harm to one or both parties involved. Instead, Cas shuts his mouth and keeps these thoughts to himself as they emerge from the darkened room. 

“I think that’s enough Star Trek 101 for now,” Dean says as he lets go of Cas’s arm, blinking several times to let his eyes adjust to the light.

“I believe I understand the important principles; although, I think there are things I’m still missing.” 

“Well you know the basics. It’s kind of hard to cover everything about a show that’s been around for almost fifty years in an hour. There’s some stuff that _I_ don’t even know about.” 

“I don’t know anyone else who is as knowledgeable as you are about this show.”

Dean snorts. “’Cause I’m the only one you know who likes it. Nice try, Cas, but that wasn’t much of a compliment.

Cas looks down sheepishly. “What else does one do at these conventions?”

Dean pulls out the program and small map from his back pocket. “They have a bunch of panels where they talk about the show, but I think I’m more interested in checking out all the exhibit booths,” Dean says as he points on the map to the exhibit area to show Cas.

Cas looks on, his expression blank for the most part until he sees how much Dean is grinning and how excited he is about being here, so he gives Dean a small encouraging smile. Because this was special to Dean, and Dean had asked him to share this with him, just _him_ and not Sam, and the angel’s smile grows a little wider at that thought. 

“Come on, I think it’s this way,” Dean says, pointing to the hallway to their right. Dean almost reaches for Castiel’s hand this time, but instead shoves his hand into his pocket and starts walking in the direction he had pointed. The first time could be blamed on a miscommunication and Cas not understanding normal human behavior, but if Dean purposefully held the angel’s hand, there’d be no excuses like that he could make to himself.

Dean only turns around once to make sure the angel is following behind him, and then continues down the hallway, a little mad at himself for being so weird about whatever the hell was going on with his stupid girly emotions.

*** 

When Dean walks into the exhibit hall, he is like a kid in a candy store. He is overwhelmed at the awesomeness before him, and he doesn’t know where to go first. There is a giant display of the USS Enterprise hanging from the ceiling, and a to-scale model of the transporter room to his left. To his right are rows and rows of booths filled with all kinds of memorabilia. And of course there are tons of people milling around in some pretty badass costumes that makes Dean kind of wish he had a costume to wear too.

He turns back to Cas (who looks just as overwhelmed only in confusion instead of excitement) with a huge smile and his eyes bright and wide.

Dean takes a few steps forward and then a few to the left only to stop when he sees the huge long line of people waiting to take their picture in the transporter room. Deciding that he’d rather wander around than wait in line, he takes a few steps to the right but notices that the angel is still in the same spot behind him staring at him quizzically.

“What?” he asks and he can’t even make it sound defensive because he is just too freakin’ happy right now.

“Nothing. This is just all very… interesting.”

Dean steps closer to Cas and shakes his head. “No. This. Is. Awesome.” 

And this time when he does grab a hold of Cas’s hand to pull him toward the booths, he doesn’t even care because he is just too damn excited to worry about the fact that he’s the one that reached for his best friend’s hand and is now holding it while they explore the booths.

He also doesn’t give a damn that he goes to hold it again after he puts down whatever it was he had picked up to show Cas and explain what it was. Because Cas doesn’t seem to mind, or even think it odd at all, and gladly accepts Dean’s hand every time, letting Dean pull him to the next booth so he can show off his trivia knowledge about the various communicators and model weapons that are before them. 

When Dean and Cas get to the end of the row of booths, Dean’s eyes grow wide like the clouds have parted and he’s been shown the Holy Grail. Before them stand racks and racks of costumes and accessories from every Star Trek iteration. There’s a camera and backdrop next to the clothes for those that want to take a picture in the various outfits.

Dean doesn’t even say a word; he just tugs Cas along behind him as he practically runs to the costumes. He of course goes straight to the racks of signature gold federation uniforms that appear to come in various styles from full on authentic uniform to just a printed T-shirt. While he tries to find one his size, he tells Cas to find one for himself because they might not be able to buy it but they sure as hell are going to try it on and take a picture. 

Cas obliges, slowly scanning the racks, not entirely sure what he should be doing. He walks up and down every aisle, looking at every rack. He sees a set of costumes that look familiar from the footage he had seen earlier and decides to pick one of those. 

“Did you find something?” Dean asks, already wearing the Captain Kirk uniform top over his own shirt. 

“Is this okay?” Cas says as he turns holding up the outfit he had picked for Dean’s approval.

Dean’s heart does not at all skip at the shirt the angel has in his hand.

Castiel is holding up a blue uniform that even comes complete with pointy Vulcan ears. Dean thinks that the angel probably doesn’t even know the significance of the uniform and that he just picked it because the color was the same as the tie he was wearing, only to have Cas prove this theory wrong.

“This is what the Vulcan Spock wears, correct?”

“Uh yeah, it is. Is that why you picked it?”

“Well from what I could gather from the footage we watched, he seems to be very similar to me in that we both are trying to understand humans.” Dean nods. “Also, he is friends with the person that wears that uniform,” Cas says, pointing to the shirt Dean is wearing.

“Captain Kirk,” Dean provides.

“Right. Captain Kirk. So it seemed fitting that I wear this while you wear that since we, too, are friends just as they are. Aren’t we?” Cas adds the last question hesitantly as if he might be making the wrong assumption.

Dean smiles and wraps an arm around Cas’s shoulders. “Yeah, Cas. You are definitely the Spock to my Kirk. The line for pictures’ is over here.” Dean gestures with his head towards the line. 

As they wait in the line, Dean tries to help Cas with the costume, removing the trench coat and the suit coat and tie he’s wearing and setting them aside on a nearby table where others have placed their coats, so he can slide the uniform top over the angel’s dress shirt. It looks odd, with the white cuffs of the shirt poking out underneath the blue sleeves, but Dean tells Cas it’s okay because he’s not sure who all has tried these things on and it’s probably safer that Cas has a barrier of cloth between him and the costume.

It’s when Dean is putting the ears on Castiel that he starts to get a little nervous. Not only is he standing incredibly close to the angel but he also overhears the women behind him talking. He tries to ignore their conversation, but they’re not exactly being quiet. He hears them mention how cute he and Cas are and how they make the perfect Kirk and Spock, and he doesn’t know whether to be flattered or furious about them talking about he and Cas like that. Then he hears them go into a discussion about how “obvious” Kirk and Spock’s relationship was on the show and how they “clearly” loved each other.

Dean’s ears get hot and red, and he wishes he hadn’t just heard that especially since he was all about how much Cas and him were just like Kirk and Spock.

“Is something wrong, Dean?” Cas asks, his head tilted at an awkward angle so that Dean could put on the other ear.

“Uh, no. Nothing’s wrong. It’s fine.” Dean goes back to putting the ear on Cas. Once he’s finished affixing the ear, Cas moves his head and stares at Dean.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.” Dean smiles in reassurance. “You look good as a Vulcan,” he adds while examining his handiwork.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, look, we’re next. Okay, when we get up there, do this,” Dean says holding up his hand with his first and second fingers split from his third and forth. “It’s the Vulcan greeting,” he adds anticipating the question Cas was about to ask.

“Like this?” Cas asks holding his hand up to mirror Dean’s.

“Perfect.”

Dean hears the man behind the camera yell “Next” signaling for them to step up.

“Our turn,” Dean says gesturing to Cas to follow the woman, a volunteer, whose arms are open to guide them to the spot marked on the floor.

“You get two pictures,” the woman says once she places Castiel and Dean in the correct spot.

“Cool,” Dean replies. 

“You ready?” the cameraman asks, his face already behind the camera his finger poised above the shutter button. 

Dean checks to make sure Cas’s ears are still on and then pulls Cas’s wrist up and splays his fingers to the correct position. Then he tries his best to pull a Captain Kirk-like stance, his face serious. “Ready,” Dean calls out before setting his face again.

Click.

“Ok one more,” the woman reminds them.

Dean isn’t quite sure what to do for this next one, so he just throws his arm around Cas and smiles. But then he hears the click of the camera again before he can tell Cas to smile too, so he has no clue what Cas looks like in the picture.

“Your pictures should be ready in about twenty minutes,” the woman tells them while she’s pushing them aside so the next people in line can step up. “They’ll be right over there.” She points to the table behind the cameraman where there are already several pictures lined up on display.

“Thanks,” Dean says, but the woman has already walked away to help the next group. “Well, we better put these back.” Dean pulls on the uniform he’s wearing.

Cas nods and follows Dean back to the table where their coats are resting. Both of them remove their costumes and put them back where they belong. Cas goes to add the ears back as well, but Dean makes him keep them, saying he’ll buy them because he’s pretty sure that someone might get weird about them putting it back after wearing them. And he might have muttered that he might have Cas wear them again because they were hilarious on him, but he thinks maybe he just thought that in his head.

They both go back to wandering the booths looking at everything as they wait for their pictures. Dean still doesn’t want to sit in on a panel, and it’s getting close to dinner-time, which his rumbling stomach tells him, so they’ll have to leave soon so he can get back to Sam. As much as he wants to take a picture in the transporter room, the line wraps around several times, and it is just not worth it to wait in that line.

While they look in the booths, he doesn’t reach for Cas’s hand again even when the backs of their hands brush against each other. He can’t deny that he so badly wants to every time they do, but the conversation he overheard reverberates in his head and it freaks him out because he really doesn’t know what the hell is going on and why he longs for the warmth and comfort of Cas’s hand in his.

He glances at his watch once they’ve walked down every aisle of booths. “Our pictures are probably ready now,” Dean says, turning back to Cas who’s mostly just been following behind him like a puppy for the last ten minutes while they perused the booths in silence. The whole time Dean had kept thinking he should say something, but the internal battle he was having about what exactly he was feeling towards Cas had prevented him from carrying on a conversation. 

Dean starts towards the table of pictures with Cas beside him. “So once we get the pictures, we should probably head out. I told Sam I’d be back in time for dinner. I mean, if that’s okay, unless you wanted to see something else.” 

Castiel shakes his head. “No. I do not need to see anything else.”

They arrive at the table and wait for the people in front of them to find their pictures so that Dean and Cas can find theirs. A space opens and Dean and Cas step up both looking at the pictures in front of them, trying to find the familiar face of each other among them. 

“And, you’re totally invited to come to dinner with me and Sam too, if you want, unless you have angel things you have to do. I know I’ve already kept you for a while, so I understand if you have to go. And I know you don’t really eat, but it’d be nice to have you, you know, for company.” And geez, why was Dean rambling so much?

“Actually, I would like to join you and Sam, if that’s alright. The angel business can wait.”

Dean can’t help the small smile that appears on his face at these words, at Cas telling him that he’s putting Dean before his duties, that Dean and his happiness is more important to Cas than the impending apocalypse.

“Yeah, of course it’s alright. I invited you.” Dean spots his own face just under a picture of a couple kissing dressed as Spock and Uhura. “Aha, here it is!” He pulls out the set of pictures and holds them up to get a better look.

The first picture is kind of hilarious. He’s standing in a fighting stance, his eyes squinting as if surveying whatever is in front of him. Cas is standing next to him. His hand is raised in a Vulcan greeting, and his brows are furrowed, looking sideways at Dean like he thinks Dean’s stance is odd and he doesn’t understand why he’s standing that way. 

Dean chuckles at the first picture because it’s so Cas for him to look that way. But when he moves his eyes down to the second picture, he inhales sharply at the way Cas is looking at him in that one.

In the second picture, Dean has his arm over Cas’s shoulders and is staring straight at the camera, his mouth in a wide grin. Cas still has his hand up in the Vulcan salute, but this time his head is turned slightly towards Dean, a small smile on his face. And the way his eyes are looking at Dean suggest something else, and Dean thinks it looks as if Cas is almost wistful, like standing next to Dean is exactly where he wants to be, like he never wants to be anywhere else. 

A woman standing to Dean’s side points to the picture in his hand. “That’s such a cute picture. You guys make a cute couple,” she remarks.

“Uh, thanks,” Dean says, not even bothering to correct her about the couple comment, and instead moving away from the table, hoping that Cas is still behind him, which he is.

“Here.” Dean hands the pictures to Cas for him to look at, which he accepts. “I’m starved. Let’s get out of here.” Dean lifts his hand, palm up, an open invitation for Cas’s hand.

Castiel looks up from the pictures to Dean’s face, and then looks down at Dean’s extended hand. He looks up again to Dean’s face and his lips curl up as he places his own hand into Dean’s. Dean gives the angel’s hand a little squeeze, and they both stride towards the exit. 

*** 

The Impala is parked in front of the diner across the street from the motel, and Dean’s already texted Sam, telling him to get his lazy ass off the couch and use his obscenely long legs to walk across the street to meet them at the diner. He ignores the return text from Sam complaining that he was the lazy one because he could have parked at the motel and walked to the diner with him. 

He and Cas are sitting in the Impala, waiting to see Sam’s floppy long hair in the rearview mirror before they get out to go into the diner. Dean pulls the pictures out of his pocket and hands their first picture to Cas.

“You have this one. I want this one.” Dean folds up the second picture and puts it back in his pocket, gently patting it once it’s there.

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas opens his trench slightly to slip his picture in the inside pocket. 

“No, thanks, Cas. Thanks for coming with me. I had fun.” 

“I did, too. I’m happy you asked me to be with you.” Cas looks down at his hands sitting in his lap, as if remembering all the times he had held Dean’s hand that day. Dean almost moves to hold Cas’s hand again, but Sam knocks on the window with his knuckle. Then Sam continues into the diner to get a table. 

In a quick whisper before he opens the door to exit the Impala, Dean says, “Uh, Sam doesn’t know we went to the convention today. So let’s keep it our little secret, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, Dean. I will not reveal to Sam that we dressed up.” Dean rolls his eyes and both he and Cas leave the Impala to join Sam in the diner.

*** 

Sam is sitting across the table from Dean and Cas, and both Sam and Dean have finished eating. Currently, Dean is waiting for the slice of pie he ordered because if he sees pie on display it’s like sacrilege if he doesn’t order a piece. Despite Sam’s probing questions, Cas was true to his word and said nothing about what he and Dean had been doing today. Dean had supplied the fib that he had seen a movie and that Cas had shown up to see how the research was going and had decided to stick around to help.

Cas, bless him, had added they went to the library, which Dean secretly cursed him for and then himself for because he really should have gotten their stories straight before Sam had shown up.

“What’d ya find? Did you learn anything today?” Sam asked, curious about the results of their trip to the library. Just then, the waitress sets Dean’s slice of pie in front of him, and Dean smiles his thanks. He picks up his fork and cuts a piece off.

Cas answered, starting to lift his hand with his fingers splayed apart, “I did. I learned ‘Live Long and—‘” 

“EAT PIE,” Dean burst out, quickly pulling on Cas’s wrist to hide his hand beneath the table, at the same time shoving the pie-filled fork in the angel’s mouth.

Sam’s eyebrow lifts. “Live long and eat pie?”

“Yup. It’s a great motto really. Everyone should follow it.” Dean says looking straight at Sam with a face daring Sam to press him on this. Sam turns a questioning look to Cas, as if the angel will give him the truth.

Both Dean and Cas’s hands are still under the table, and Dean slides his hand in the angel’s interlocking their fingers and squeezing, both in affection and as a threat to remain quiet. Castiel smiles around the fork still sticking out of his mouth and shrugs.

“Uh okay…” Sam says in acceptance that no one’s going to tell him anything.

Dean takes the fork out of Cas’s mouth and takes another piece of pie for himself. He sighs in pleasure after he finishes the bite, not thinking at all about the fact that the fork had just been in the angel’s mouth. Pie transcends germs and the slightly dirty thoughts that pop up in the back of Dean’s mind. Because you know what, it is fucking delicious.

“Pie’s good, isn’t it, Cas?” 

“Yes, Dean.” 

Sam rolls his eyes and in a huff slides out of the booth and heads towards the bathroom, not noticing that his brother’s and the angel’s hands are still under the table. 

Dean silently offers another bite to Cas, who shakes his head. Dean shrugs and pulls the plate closer to him. 

“Live long and eat pie, indeed. Awesome words to live by,” Dean says with a smile as he quickly cleans his plate, Cas’s fingers still intertwined with Dean’s beneath the table.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompter wanted SPN!verse, so this happened and it ended up being super fluffy, so I hope that's okay. 
> 
> Also, please forgive the liberties I took when it came to describe the goings on and activities of the convention. I've never been to a Star Trek one, and so I just kind of combined my own experience of going to Comic Con and the one SPN con I went to into this amalgamation and then threw in a few of my own ideas so it'd fit with how I wanted the story to go. It's probably grossly inaccurate and I apologize.
> 
> I have 2 other ideas in my head that involve Dean and Cas at a Star Trek convention and dressing as Kirk and Spock, so once I get around to writing those I might make it a kind of series or "variations on a theme". Thanks to violinsandskulls for the prompt and motivation to write this idea that I've had for a while!


End file.
